More Than It Hurts You: A Tommy and Rebecca Story
by Evey Edge
Summary: Post Season Finale. Tommy reflects on his choice to stab Rebecca and tries explain his actions to the ones he loves. Tommy and Rebecca.
1. Chapter 1

Get it off. Get the blood off. Off his knife, off his face, off his hands. No. His hands were clean. They were the same pale pink they'd been this morning. Tommy looked into the mirror above the dingy sink in the no-tell motel he'd checked into. His reflection stared back at him. There he was, Tommy Madsen. He looked just the same as he had when he'd been Private Madsen, before Agatha, before everything had gone to hell.

Tommy had replayed the night his wife died over a thousand times. It was like his own personal horror show that restarted every time his mind wasn't completely occupied with other things. One of the few things he had to be thankful to the Warden for; at least he kept him busy.

Tommy could only remember pieces of night his world had collapsed. He knew what he'd done, but all the memories of the murder were ripped from his mind. Post-traumatic stress, the doctors had said. The war broke his brain and his wife had paid the price. They claimed his amnesia was a self-defense mechanism to protect his psyche. It wasn't thorough enough in Tommy's opinion. The amnesia should have wiped out more; the gun in his hand, Agatha's body, and Van face, spattered with blood.

The new images were more horrific because he'd been fully aware every second. He could remember jabbing the knife into Rebecca's flesh. He could see her face, full of agony and betrayal. He could hear her cry of pain.

Tommy had caught her as she fell. "Shhh," he'd said to her, like she was a child crying over a scraped knee. He'd wanted to hold her, rock, comfort her. He'd wanted to tell her that everything was going to be alright. That one day she'd understand that this had hurt him even more than it hurt her.

It was the right choice, the only choice he could have made. But that didn't change the fact he'd stabbed his grandchild, stuck a knife in her belly, and left her in agony. His little girl. The only thing he had left of his beloved wife.

On impulse Tommy smashed the mirror with his fist. The glass fragmented, and pieces fell off, so he could see only the vague distortion of his reflection. That was better, more honest. His knuckle was bleeding freely, but he made no move to stem the flow. He deserved this pain, and most of all he deserved to see the blood on his hands.


	2. Chapter 2

Tommy had been waiting inside the apartment for two hours. The security system had been tricky, state of the art even, but one of the skills he'd learned during the intervening years between his own jump and the arrival of the other inmates was sophisticated breaking and entering. The Warden had thought it prudent that his "advance man" be knowledgeable in the area of illegal object acquisition. Tonight though was not about James. This was a personal mission.

He'd put the time he waited for his target's return to good use, examining the rooms, trying to learn what he didn't already know. The most fascinating find were the comic sketches feature none other than his granddaughter. The artists had captured the intensity and drive of her features perfectly. She seemed to be in perpetual motion, frame after frame of her chasing different Alcatraz inmates. Fearless beauty. Other pictures were even more revealing. Rebecca and Ray in the bar smiling fondly at each other. Rebecca gorging on dim sum in a way that was completely at odds with her petite frame. Rebecca applying pressure to Dr. Sangupta's chest wound. Each sketch captured a different aspect of his granddaughter.

The final drawing that caught Tommy's eye was of Rebecca standing before a wall covered with photographs. The panel showed a close up of her face as she scrutinized a particular image. It was a picture of him. Did she really study his photograph like this? He never would have imagined it, given how she reacted to him less than twenty-four hours ago.

He'd tried to convince Rebecca that she had nothing to fear from him because of their connection, but she'd only sneered at him, "You think that makes us family? I don't know you." Her words wounded him more than he believed was possible, considering they'd never spoken before. Maybe it was because of what Ray had said about his being "nobody's grandfather". Maybe it was that though she didn't know him, he DID know Rebecca. He'd been watching her for years, as often as he could without drawing attention.

Tommy knew she was a loving niece, and a loyal friend. He knew she had a penchant for Chinese and a mouth like a sailor when she got angry. He knew she was a sharp, intuitive detective who didn't put up with anyone's crap. He'd taken some pride in knowing that his genes had played some role in creating this extraordinary human being. To be denied that blood claim, after everything he'd sacrificed to safeguard the future of his family, cut him more deeply than his granddaughter could have possibly imagined.

What did Rebecca see when she looked at his picture? An Alcatraz inmate for her to catch? Her partner's killer? Her grandmother's murderer? Did she ever think of him as Ray's brother or her father's father? Did she ever call him her grandfather?

Tommy's sharp ears captured the sound of keys being jammed into a lock. Dr. Soto had returned. He checked to make sure his gun was ready in case he had to use it. Tommy very much hoped it wouldn't come to that. He already had enough strikes against him in his granddaughter's book, not to mention Soto appeared to be a good man with a genuine concern for Rebecca's welfare. The same couldn't be said for the others she worked with. He tried to adopt as non-threatening a pose as possible, sitting, rather than standing with both hand visible on his lap.

Dr. Soto trudged through the front and collapse on the coach in his living room without even noticing their was a stranger sitting at his kitchen table. The man's knowledge of Alcatraz might be considerably better than the norm, but his instincts were pretty shitty.

"Hello, Dr. Soto." Dr. Soto leapt to his feet with surprising speed for a man of his size. His eyes were wide, and panicked as they zeroed in one Tommy. As recognition dawned in his eyes the rest of his face seemed to war between the fear and hatred. He eyes cast a sideways glance at the door as though he were contemplating making a run for it.

"Even if you did managed to bet me to the door, I'd catch you before you made it to the street." Tommy held up his hands to demonstrate he was unarmed. "I do have a gun, but I'd prefer not to use it."

"Yeah, that's right because you're more of a knife man these days." He focused on keeping himself calm, staying in the moment. Soto had every right to be angry. He didn't know the whole truth.

"What I meant was that I will not use it unless you force me to."

"Liked Rebecca forced you?" If she'd just been willing to listen to him, then this could all have been avoided. Unfortunately, like the stubborn woman he knew she was, she didn't listen and he'd had no choice but to take action he'd have rather avoided.

"Exactly."

"You son of a bitch." The was a burning fury in Soto's eyes Tommy had never seen before. Usually they reflected an almost childlike innocence.

"Hey, easy there, that's Rebecca's great grandmother you're talking about." He kept his voice light and flippant, hoping to diffuse some of the tension with a little humor.

"You don't get to say her name." That harkened back to Ray's and Rebecca's earlier comments. Remain calm. Don't like your anger control you.

"Dr. Soto, I understand your hostility, but the sooner you hear me out, the sooner I leave." That was it, offer the carrot, not the stick.

"Fine. Why are you here?"

"To protect Reb-to protect your partner." Soto's expression turned incredulous as he stared at Tommy for a full five seconds. When Tommy didn't say anything else he barked a humorous laugh.

"Are you serious? What makes you think I still have a partner to protect? It wasn't even a day ago that you sunk a six inch blade into her gut. I know your last anatomy class was over fifty years ago, but you might recall there's some vital stuff hanging out in that area." Tommy had to admit to outsider it might sound implausible than he was interested in protecting the same woman he'd sent to the hospital.

"I know she didn't die." That was the main point here. Tommy had known in those seconds when he had been steeling himself to stab his granddaughter, that she would live through it. It was his mantra as he spun and sank the blade in, lowered her to the ground, and left her there for her partner.

"I got some news for you buddy. She did." At first Tommy was sure he'd misheard.

"What?"

"She died. As in flat-lined, no breathing, no pulse, dead." No. No. No. That had to be wrong.

"No. That's impossible. She couldn't have died from that knife wound." She couldn't have. He'd been sure. Otherwise he never would have…he never would have…oh god he was going to throw up.

"She could have and she did. One more tally your credit. How many that for you now? I meant you only went into Alcatraz as an amateur with only your wife blood on your hands, but now I think we can safely say you've gone-" Tommy didn't give him the opportunity to finish the sentence. He crossed the room in three strides, shoved him against the wall, and put his left forearm across his windpipe. With his right hand he drew the gun from his pocket and pointed it at Soto.

"SHE'S NOT DEAD! SAY IT!" He won't allow it to be true. Soto was LYING! This couldn't happen again not again! Rebecca. Oh god Aggie, what had he done?

"Careful Madsen, someone might actually think you cared."

Tommy blinked and realized he had tears in his eyes. His first response was shock. He hadn't been able to cry since the night Aggie died. It was like that night disconnected from the rest of the human rest. His body had shut off his ability to show grief. It had actually come in handy at Alcatraz where any display of weakness could have fatal consequences. Now it had returned to him, just in time for him to weep for the second woman he'd loved and lost. Loved? Yes, Tommy realized he loved Rebecca. She wasn't just a substitute for Van or Aggie's dobbleganger. He loved her passion and her stubbornness and her smart mouth, and she would never ever know that. Because she was dead. Because he'd been wrong and he killed her. He released Soto and backed away towards his chair.

It had all be for nothing. He'd sold his soul for his family and it hadn't be enough to protect them. He looked at Soto who seemed to be studying him intently. It figured. It had to be interesting for an Alcatraz expert see a real live hardened inmate cry.

Cry. He was crying, but Soto wasn't. Soto didn't look like he was grieving. He looked suspicious and disbelieving. Tommy thought back to their conversation. Soto had been primary angry through the interview. Not enraged, not despondent, just angry.

"She's not dead." The truth of words resounded within him, sending welcome vibrations to the depths of his soul. She was alive.

"What, do you think if you keep saying that it will make it true?"

"No, I know it's true." He should never had doubted himself. He knew the truth about Rebecca, the secret he'd kept ever since Ray told him about the 'accident' 17 years ago.

"How do you know that?" Should he tell Soto the truth? He did obviously care about Rebecca. He might even have been a little in love with her. Still, the information was like a virus, it needed to be contained.

"Even if I hadn't known when I came here, that way your acting proves it. You couldn't taunt me if like this it she hadn't made it."

"How do you know what I could or couldn't do? You don't know me." Soto assertion couldn't have been more wrong.

"You're not the only one who can do research Dr. Soto."

"You've been spying on me?" 'Spying' was such an ugly word. Tommy preferred 'observation' or 'surveillance'.

"Why is it called 'research' when you invade the privacy of hundreds of men and write a book about it and 'spying' when I look into what kind of man my granddaughter has for a partner?" Given Rebecca's last partner he'd been a little concerned about who Rebecca entrusted her life to.

"Right, because you're all about keeping Rebecca safe. A regular guardian angel." The sarcasm in Dr. Soto's voice was thick.

"I'm the best kind protector Rebecca could have, someone who will do WHATEVER it takes to keep her from harm." Tommy had learned ruthless in Alcatraz and he would continue to put it to good use for the benefit of his remaining family.

"Including stabbing her with a knife?" Tommy had definitely been pushing the limits on the 'tough love' concept, but it really had been for her own good.

"Yes."

"Dude, you seriously need some one-on-one time with Lucy." Tommy assumed that meant the good doctor was up and walking around. He filed that piece of information away for later use.

"Dr. Soto, when are you going to realize that when it comes to Alcatraz, things are rarely what they appear to be?" People thought Alcatraz was built on an island, but it wasn't. It was built on lies.

"How can killing someone be interpreted as anything other than doing them harm?"

"But I didn't kill her, did I? She lived." That was the bottom line here. The big picture was too much for Soto to grasp, but ultimately he had been helping his granddaughter.

"Because of a freaking miracle! I was telling you the truth about her flat-lining. The doctors told me. They shocked her a bunch of times and NOTHING. They were packing up shop when suddenly out of nowhere her heart starts up again. There's no way you could have known that would happen. Is there?"

"I can't answer your questions without putting Rebecca's life in jeopardy. What I can say it that the events of today will have ripple effects and it is crucial that Rebecca know certain things in order to protect herself from them." Now they came to the point. Tommy knew he couldn't force Dr. Soto to do what he'd wanted. He would have to persuade him.

"What do you need me to do?"

"I need you to give here these." Dr. Soto tensed as Tommy reached back to grab the object on the kitchen table, but relaxed his shoulders when he saw what they were.

"Sunflowers? Really? Not even roses? Dude, I don't think even the world's biggest stuffed bear would be enough to get her to forgive you." Forgiveness? Tommy would be lucky if he persuaded his granddaughter not to shoot him on sight.

"This isn't about forgiveness for me, it's about protection for her. And the flowers aren't the important thing. The important thing is the card that goes with them." The card that held as many secrets as he could share without putting Rebecca in further jeopardy. The card that if either side knew existed would create untold damage.

"I didn't know Hallmark makes an 'I'm sorry I punctured your vital organs card'." Ordinarily Tommy would have found Soto's remarks funny, but today had been a long day and his patience had worn thin.

"Soto, this is me asking nicely: focus please."

"Right, sorry." Soto furrowed his brows as if he were concentrating very hard on something.

"I have written things inside the card that are for her eyes only. Not Hauser's, not Dr. Sangupta's, not even yours. Do you understand?"

"Yes." Tommy didn't doubt Soto's honesty in the slightest. He only prayed that for all their sakes his discretion as just as reliable.

"Good. One last thing: You cannot tell anyone I was here, or that I gave you this assignment. As far as the world knows this conversation never happened. This card did not come from me." Heaven help them if anyone else found out.


	3. Chapter 3

Dying wasn't what it was cracked up to be. There had been no white light, no montage of happy memories. Maybe other people got that at the end, but not Rebecca. All she could remember from the time she blacked out until the moment she woke up was "Shhh…." the reassuring noise made by her almost killer, right after he plunged a blade into her gut.

Sick bastard. One minute he was calling her his granddaughter and the next he was murdering her. God, he'd even used the memory of his son to do it. He'd taunted her, claiming to know more about her father's death than she did, and he'd used her distraction to end her.

The most pathetic part was that deep down, she hadn't meant what she'd said to Tommy. It did matter to her that they were related. All those questions she'd asked about him, she told herself it was because of her job, but really she'd been fascinated for a different reason. She wanted to know if Tommy Madsen was really the monster everyone thought he was. She wanted to know why he'd killed her partner. She'd also wanted answers about her grandmother. Why had he killed her? According to Doc's book, no motive was ever uncovered. Somewhere deep down, she'd harbored a pitiful wish that he hadn't done it at all. She wanted him to be a good man. How stupid was that?

No, it wasn't stupidity. It was that the little girl who'd lost her parents when she was twelve still lived inside her. Having Tommy would have been the closest she could come to having her father back. She'd learned her lesson though. She wouldn't be taken in by that man again. From now on he would Prisoner 2002 to her and nothing more.

"Hey Rebecca. You're looking better." Rebecca was instantly pulled out of her dark thoughts and back into her hospital room, where she had a welcome visitor.

"You're either lying or I must have really looked like shit before." Doc smiled at her awkwardly. He was probably not sure how to respond. Her partner wasn't exactly the smoothest guy on the planet, and he likely didn't want to offend her by telling her the truth. Her gaze fell on the bouquet of flowers he was holding.

"Are those for me?"

"Yeah. I'll just put them right here." Doc placed the flowers on her bedside table without making eye contact. Rebecca felt her heart warm with affection. Smoothness really was an over-rated trait.

"They're beautiful, Doc. Thank you." Sunflowers had always been Rebecca's favorite flower. She left some on her parents' graves every year. Ray used to say that each blossom was the sun and every sun represented a new day.

"You really like them?" Doc sounded skeptical, like he hadn't been at all confident in his choice of flower.

"Are you kidding me? Sunflowers are my favorite, they always have been. How did you know?" Sunflowers definitely weren't the go to flowers for most men. Roses, and mixed arrangements were far more common.

"Lucky guess, I guess. Anyway I just wanted to stop by and check on you." Doc really was acting funny, shifting his weight from one foot to the next, occasionally glancing uneasily at the gift he'd brought her. Maybe he was more embarrassed than she realized about the flowers.

"I'm fine thanks. I'll be even better when the doctors finally let me out of here and we can get back to tracking do the bastard who did this to me." That was something she had to look forward to, slapping the cuffs on Tom- on 2002, hauling him back to the new Alcatraz and watching the doors slam shut on him.

"Sounds like a plan. I'm going to go now, but I just wanted you to have this first." Doc pulled a light blue envelope from his pocket and handed it to her. She started to open it, but Doc held up a hand.

"Wait until I'm gone to read that, would you?" The card must pretty mushy if he didn't want to be around when she read it.

"Sure. But now you've got me curious about what it says."

"Well, I hope it doesn't disappoint you. See you later." Okay, that was maybe the strangest visit she'd had since she woke up. When Doc had been here earlier he'd stuck around for almost two hours before the nurses kicked him out. Today it was like he couldn't get out of the room fast enough. She shook her head and ripped the Hallmark envelope. The front of the card showed a picture of a rubber ball bouncing off the floor. The caption read "Hope you bounce back fast!" Too cute. Rebecca opened the inside of the card and saw it was covered in a minute scrawl that went from the top to the bottom of the page. The handwriting looked nothing like Doc's.

"Rebecca,

Don't be angry with Dr. Soto for passing this along to you. If you are reading these words, it's because I've convinced him that this card contains information vital to your survival. This is the truth, so please don't burn it just to spite me. It's more likely you'll want to bag the card as evidence and try to use it to track me down. Your investigation won't turn up anything, but under the circumstance I doubt you'll take my word for it.

I imagine you're wondering by now why I would be writing to you. Maybe you think I want to gloat for having overpowered you. Maybe you think I'm trying to manipulate your sympathies. Rest assured, neither is the case. I take no pleasure in the knowledge that I've caused you pain and I after what I've done, there is no reason for you to feel anything but hatred toward me.

Regardless of your personal feelings, I ask that you hear me out. Things are changing faster than you can imagine and if you're going to live, you need to know what I know. Unfortunately I can't reveal what I need to in this card. I can't risk leaving a paper trail. I'd like us to meet in person, alone, and unarmed. All I want from you is just one day, a new day. Give me that day and I promise it will save your life.

I realize I'm asking a lot, but I can prove to you it's be worth the risk. Read the police report on your parents' accident and find what's missing. Remember Rebecca, when it comes to Alcatraz, there is always more beneath the surface."

The card was unsigned. No 'sincerely', no 'love', no 'regards' and no name. Didn't matter, she knew who wrote it. Stabbing her wasn't enough, now he wanted to play mind games? No, not just mind games, he wanted to test if she was stupid enough to give him a second chance at killing her. Even she wasn't that crazy.

The last paragraph bothered her the most. What on earth did he mean, 'Read the police report on your parent's accident and find what's missing'? It was the second time he brought up the accident. The first was right before he stuck her with the knife. She'd thought it had been just another cruel trick he'd used to distract her, but he made it sound like there was really something she didn't know. He made it sound like they didn't die because of a car crash at all. Only they had, she knew they had. She'd been in the backseat when it happened.


	4. Chapter 4

Damn, her stab wound hurt. Maybe her doctor had been onto something when he'd suggested she stay in the hospital for another week. Then again, the pain was an improvement over being stuck in bed with questions burning in her brain. Rebecca had barely lasted the twenty-four hours between her release and when she'd first read the card. In the interim she'd perused the words so many times she could now recite it from memory. If she'd remained trapped in that room for seven more days she would have lost her mind completely No, Rebecca would be fine. She was in excellent shape, and she'd always been a fast healer.

Rebecca had perfect school attendance every year until her parents' deaths. After the accident she'd only broken her record for what Ray had called their "Hooky Days". Two days a school year he'd call her in sick and they'd spend the day together doing whatever she wanted, whether it was going to a game, a museum, a zoo, or the movies. They had kept up the tradition every year until she'd graduated. It had always been such a special time to her, to have him all to herself with no case weighing on his mind.

Ray had been there with Doc when she'd woken up. The bags under his eyes had been enormous and the expression on his face made him looked like he'd aged a decade while she'd been out. She managed to at least get him smiling against with her first words after her near death experience: "You look like hell."

Ray had hovered over her for hours, constantly asking if she needed another pillow, or if she was warm enough, or if she wanted a magazine. It was pretty funny to watch him act like a nervous mother hen toward her, and then turn the full force of his intimidation on the doctors and nurses who kept coming in, wanting to do more tests, wanting to take blood samples.

Apparently her spontaneous resuscitation had quite a few of them scratching their highly educated heads. Ray was not interested in satisfying their curiosity. "What Rebecca needs is rest, not to be treated like a human lab rat!" He growled at one particularly unfortunate nurse, sending her scurrying from the room.

It was hard to believe that the man who protected her so fiercely was brother of the man who'd tried to kill her. Even harder to believe were Tommy's accusation that Ray was lying to her. Unfortunately, like everything to do with Alcatraz, she couldn't let it go. She had to know the truth, and that was why she'd discharged herself and had Doc drive them both back to his apartment. When she asked him if he could hack into the department's accident reports from 1995 without being caught, he'd told her 'no problem' and set to work.

"Here it is," Doc turned the screen towards Rebecca so she could read it. She started to scan the words, trying as best as she could to stay objective. It had been T-Bone collision. The other car had crushed the left side of her parents' car. Her father, who had been driving, had died instantly. Her mother and the driver of the second car had succumbed to internal injuries a few hours later. There was no forensic evidence that pointed to tampering. The ME's report indicated the other driver had been drinking. There it was, in black and white. There was no mystery or conspiracy, just a run of the mill tragedy and the bastard had made her relive it for nothing.

"Rebecca, can I ask you something?" Doc's voice was hesitant, like he didn't want to risk upsetting her.

"Sure, Doc." She had decided not to be pissed at Doc for acting as 2002's messenger boy. After all, he hadn't been the only one to have been played by the elusive '63.

"Why did you need me to hack this for you? I mean, you're still a cop, couldn't you have looked this up yourself." A fair question.

"I didn't want to leave a trail. I guess I was feeling a little paranoid." Damn her, for trusting the word of that sociopath.

"Yeah, I know the feeling. I spent the better part of yesterday sweeping this place for bugs and cameras." So it had been here that 2002 had gotten to Soto, inside his highly fortified home. That wasn't a comforting thought.

"After…" Doc had been lucky he hadn't ended up like her.

"Yeah."

"Sorry about that." Rebecca couldn't help, but apologize. If it hadn't been for her, Doc never would have been near this investigation. He could have lived a nice, safe running his comic store. She'd stolen that from him.

"Could have been worse. So did you learn something, something useful?" So Tommy had sold Doc on the mysterious conspiracy theory too.

"Yes, I learned something. I learned that prisoner 2002 is a sadist who likes playing head games with me."

"Are you sure?" Doc's reaction surprised her. She would have assumed Soto would just take her at her word and move on. Apparently 2002 had made an impression.

"The man stabs me, buys me flowers, and sends me on a wild goose chase. Yes, I'm sure. Why do you ask?"

"It's just that Tommy's smart. He took a big risk coming to the home of someone on the task force. I guess I have a hard time believing he did it without a good reason. And-" Doc opened his mouth to continue but seemed to changed his mind and shut it again.

"And what, Doc?" His odd withholding had gotten her curiosity fired up again.

"And he seemed sincere about wanting to protect you. Which is bizarre I know, but when I told him you died-" Whoa, hold the phone.

"Wait, you told him I died?"

"I was pissed that he'd stabbed you. Any way, he seemed really upset." Upset? The man who dropped her bleeding body in the street and speed away in a stolen car was 'upset'?

"I'm sure he curled up into a ball and sobbed." Bullshit, it was such bullshit. How dare the man try to convince Doc that he felt remorse!

"You're half right."

"What?" Which part of her sarcastic comment was he talking about?

"First he threw me against that wall and stuck a gun in my face. THEN he started crying. If he was faking, then he missed his calling as a professional actor. So, do me a favor, check the report one more time."

Rebecca tried to picture Tommy crying and found she couldn't. There was no way the pitiless convict who had knifed his own flesh and blood was capable of tears. Yet Doc seemed perfectly serious. She exhaled and trained her eyes back on the screen. The card had said, "Find what's missing." Whatever the hell that meant. Every part of the report had been completed. She was about to tell Doc he'd been played, when the answer suddenly dawned on her, so obvious she could only blame her meds for not seeing it right away. She needed to talk to Ray.


	5. Chapter 5

The bell over the door tinkled as Rebecca entered the bar. The sound was familiar; she'd been hearing it for over ten years. Even before she could legally drink, she would come here after school, do her homework down at the end of the bar. When Ray hadn't been too busy, he'd come down to see her and to play their special game.

Ray would quiz Rebecca on all the patrons, what they were wearing, what order they had arrived in, etc. It had been excellent training for her life as detective. Rebecca had always been so proud that Ray shared all his cop stuff with her, instead of trying to shield her from it. Ray hid nothing from her, not even the darkest, ugliest parts of his job. At least that was what she used to think.

"Rebecca? What on earth are you doing out of the hospital?" Ray stopped wiping down the counter to give her a disapproving look.

"They signed my release forms and told me I could go." Ray snorted.

"Oh really? I don't suppose they made you sign anything first?" His eyebrow went up, the way it used to when she told him something he didn't quite believe.

"I may have signed an AMA. It's not a big deal." She had more important things to worry about than doctors covering their asses with paperwork.

"Rebecca AMA stands for 'Against Medical Advice'. You're going against the advice of doctors who spend years learning to tell the difference between someone who is well enough to be released and someone who is not." Clearly Ray felt she was the latter.

"Those quacks also thought I was dead and gone two days ago. Am I really supposed to trust they know what they're talking about?" The fact that medical professionals couldn't tell the difference between alive and dead made Rebecca glad she visited them so infrequently.

"Rebecca, this is serious. You were stabbed." Not something she was going to forget in a hurry.

"And that's what I wanted to talk to you about. Privately. Can we go to your office?" Ray frowned, but nodded.

"Sure. Bob, watch the front will you?" Ray's long-time bartender didn't even pause from cleaning the pint glasses.

"You got it Ray." Ray led Rebecca into the back room that he used to handle all his business stuff. She could almost see him sitting behind his desk, scowling as he did the books. She used to tease him that he should hire an accountant and he would threaten to make her do them instead. They both knew it was a hollow threat, given her math grades, unless Ray wanted to bankrupt his bar.

"What was so important that you dragged yourself out of a hospital bed to come and talk to me about?" He pulled the chair around for her to sit in, but she declined. She wanted to have this conversation standing up.

"Tommy."

"Tommy." Ray's face darkened considerable. If there was one thing she could be sure off, it was that whatever help Ray may or may not have been giving Tommy behind her back, he wouldn't be getting it anymore.

"Before right before he stabbed, he asked if you'd told me the truth about how my parents died."

"The truth about how your parents died? You were there Rebecca, you know how they died." That's what she had thought, until she'd seen the evidence with her own eyes.

"There's nothing I don't know? He was just trying to distract me, get in my head?" This was either the moment of truth or the moment of lies. She waited for Ray to respond with baited breath.

"He must have been." Lies it was. Rebecca started shaking her head in disbelief. Angry tears filled her eyes, "I'm sorry he put you through that Rebecca." Ray had misinterpreted the object of her anger and grief. He thought her feelings were aimed at Tommy. The truth was closer to home.

"You are a liar Ray Archer." Ray's eyes widened in shock.

"Excuse me?"

"I wanted to give you a chance to come clean, to tell me the truth, but you lied, not by omission, but directly to my face. Like you lied about Alcatraz, like you lied about your name, and like you lied about Tommy." Rebecca pulled a folded piece of paper out of her pocket and slapped in on to Ray's desk.

"What's this?" Ray slowly picked up the paper and began to read. After skimming the first few sentences he lowered the page and looked back at her.

"It's the police report on my parents' crash. Why am I not in there Ray?"

"Rebecca-" His voice had taken on a soothing tone, the same tone he used to use on her when she'd lost her temper as a teenager. She didn't want to hear it now.

"I was in backseat. I had a concussion and a broken arm. That all should have been in the report, but it's not, it's missing." She crossed her arms over her chest, ignoring the pain of her wound. Getting answers was more important.

"The rookie officer who typed it up must have skipped a line. It happens, you know that." It was unbelievable. He didn't even blink. Was it that easy for him to deceive her?

"I don't believe you." Rebecca turned to leave, then looked back over her shoulder at the man who raised her, "You know it's ironic; I only have two remaining blood relatives, a cop and a murderer, and of the two of you, the murderer it the more honest one."

"Rebecca, I love you and I'd never do anything to hurt you." Loving her and being honest with her shouldn't be mutually exclusive.

"I know Ray, but right now I wish you loved me a little less, and trusted me a little more." With that she marched out of Ray's office and slammed the door behind her.


End file.
